Trilo
by Senket
Summary: An odd gate into the Cambrian past is the least of Torchwood's problems when the ARC's primary team turns up on their doorstep. Or, the least of Ianto's problems when Jack finds himself with the usual interest in Hart. Things quickly get out of hand.


A/N: It occurred to me, rewatching Primeval, that they're oddly similar. And that the casts would get along. The friend I wrote Quasar with was apparently thinking the same thing, so I started writing it. ....Yeah, another one. Ooops. Crossovers are a new thing for me though?

Pairings to be: Janto, obviously. One sided Stephen/Nick, awkward not-quite Stephen/Ianto, theoretical onesided Stephen/Ianto, Jack hitting on Stephen lots. Background Connor/Abby

Maybe some bonus Jack/Stephen/Ianto for kicks. We'll see.

* * *

Deft fingers flicked through old folders, a low hum echoing along the space as he breathed an old tune. The man straightened out, blinking in surprise when the metal cabinet started to rattle, stepping away when it started a slow slide across the floor. He turned, heel leaving a trace of rubber against the rough concrete, bright eyes flickering to the cabinet's destination. Ianto sucked in a quiet breath, pausing mid-note, mouth relaxing into a small 'o'. It was a like a ball of light, a meter and a quarter in diameter, shattered glass and a gleaming yellow-white shine, throwing rainbows across the room. He reached for it, awe in the slow release of breath, before he remembered himself. Ianto cleared his throat and straightened his tie before tapping the comm on his ear. "I'm in Archives room 3. I think you'll all want to come down here and see this."

Jack ran in first, his fingers tracing across Ianto's shoulders- as though ensuring that nothing had happened to the man, despite the fact that he'd been absolutely calm when he'd called up. Gwen and Tosh slid in together at a more sedate pace, Gwen pausing half-way through taking a swallow of coffee to stare at the ball of light with large, interested eyes. Tosh ran out again almost as soon as she came in, barely avoiding Owen as the grouchy doctor came in, drying his hands with an old, bloody rag. He watched her go before turning to ask them what was going on, and stopped mid sentence. Tosh made it back in record time with an armful of equipment.

Jack had been taking his time, observing the rest of the team with an amused little smile, his fingers sliding lower and lower down Ianto's arm until they were stroking the sensitive lines of his palm. He turned to give him a flat look before the man let go, laughing, and strode over to one of the shaking cabinets, plucking out something that looked like a large, mechanical eye and a flat screen attached to a joystick with a long cord. "What do you think, Tosh?" he grinned, blowing on the eye to clear it of dust. "Will it work?"

"I don't see why not," she answered, peering at the information. "Assuming, of course, it's actually a portal and not... well." She ducked as a pin tore out of Owen's coat and flew past her into the gleaming light. He left, pressing his palm against the rest of them, sighing at the new hole in his lab coat. Tosh cast one look at her equipment before dashing up after the man so she could translate the information on her computer terminal.

Gwen and Ianto leaned over either of Jack's shoulders, three heads tilted sideways as they watched a herd (or was that army? Colony? Swarm?) of trilobites scurry across dark rock. "It's the Cambrian era," Ianto told them, matter of fact. The other two turned to stare; he responded with an automatic smile, shrugging, pushing his hands into his pockets as he turned to watch the ancient crustaceans move across the stark plain.

Gwen left after a few minutes and Jack took the opportunity to wrap an arm around the younger man's shoulders, pressing a breathy kiss to his ear. "What don't you know?"

"Why there's a door to the past in my archives."

"Yours, are they?" Jack smiled, another kiss to the corner of the man's mouth. "You can watch it, then." And he transfered the controller and screen to Ianto before marching out after the others. Ianto dragged an old chair over from the nearest storage room, calling up to an irritated Owen for sandwiches and coffee, and put his feet up, watching a tiny image of the ancient world as the oddity in the center of the room threw rainbow lights around him.

Three hours later, Gwen switched watching shifts with him. The time had passed with only a minor incident or two which involved shepherding lost creatures back through the glittering portal and he gratefully gave up his spot in the worn chair to go upstairs and make everyone some coffee. Not that he wasn't grateful to Jack for giving him far more time in the field, but he honestly didn't enjoy leaving Owen in charge of the drinks. At least his own he far preferred to make himself.

He barely got the machine set up properly before Jack came up to him in a hurry, fingers sliding across his back as he half fell across the counter in his hasty about-face. "About to have company up in touristry," he huffed, flashing a harried smile. "Think you can take care of it for me, Ianto?" He didn't have time to enjoy the touch, though just enough for a strange thought to cross his mind. Jack was being awfully touchy today, something must've been about to go wrong. He was only half-right.

Ianto slid past the false wall; it rumbled shut seconds before the group from the security feed came in. There were five of them: a woman, tall and wearing shoulderpads, slim and yet expansive, attracting attention to herself with dark makeup and bright nails, far too outstanding for a tourist. The man beside her looked shorter in comparison, though it may have been simply because she knew how to make herself seem far 'bigger and better' than she was, whereas he seemed more surly and somehow weighted down, pale hair and pale eyes and- as Ianto discovered within seconds of the man opening his mouth- entirely Scottish. The second man was considerably darker in appearance, tall and rugged, no doubt active, with bright, clever eyes and a straight posture anyone could appreciate; the tranquilizer rifle slung over his shoulder killed his appearance as a tourist just as quickly as the woman's all-business outfit.

The last two seemed little more than children to Ianto, though he was barely mid-twenties himself. The difference, of course, was all in the death he saw so vividly every time he shut his eyes. Not just Lisa, but all of Torchwood One, blood and burning and the crunch of heavy metallic feet everywhere, 'Exterminate's and 'Delete's and screaming all mixing into one horrible, discordant clamor of noise. The boy was a tech geek, no doubt, fingerless gloves and a fedora and a skateboard, a ratty jacket that reminded Ianto of a college roommate. The girl was a pretty thing, bleached-blonde and bright blue eyes brought out by her dark eyeliner. He'd have believed the pair of them to be traveling friends-or-maybe-more, perhaps. At least, if it wasn't for the equipment the boy was peering down into so intently, as though expecting answers to suddenly formulate themselves before his eyes.

"Can I help you with anything, ladies and gentlemen?" he asked, cordial as always, a meaningless smile pinned to his face. The woman and the blonde man both began speaking at once, before halting and giving each other irritated-but-not looks. They held gazes before the woman smiled, faker than Ianto's, and turned to inspect her nails instead.

"I don't expect you've seen any dinosaurs running about lately, have you?" He asked, surly and not-quite-facetious as he leaned against the counter, squinting.

"Only Myfanwy," Ianto answered with a tiny smile to himself, brows raising, "but I'm not to show her to strangers. They don't tend to react favorable to Pteradons, you see." It was almost like a secret handshake. If they both took each other seriously, then. Well. It was all silly, and Owen would mock him for watching too many films, but Ianto was a fan of theaters, new and old alike.

The other man straightened out, surprised by the answer, and cocked his head. "I don't suppose you've seen a floating light, have you? Broken glass?" Behind him, the dark-haired man regarded Ianto with a expression of mingled suspicion and curiosity, fingers tensing around the strap slung over his shoulder.

Ianto's own shoulders tensed at the distant sound of a proximity alarm, and he uncomfortably forced a smile, carefully holding eye contact with the strangers when Jack came in, boots clanking as always, coat billowing, ruining their secret. Perhaps the captain had realized meeting with another group of 'secret organization' members would do the Torchwood crew good. Doubtful. He quickly came to his senses when he noticed the heavy, lingering look Jack cast on the tall, dark man with the rifle.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he told them in his loud, ever-so-pleased-to-meet-you voice, shaking hands all around. He lingered longer on the last, fingertips ghosting over skin when he drew back. "Welcome to Torchwood, do let me show you around." He directed a particularly wide and inviting grin at the tall man before sweeping his gaze over the conglomeration, cocking his head towards the hidden door as he ushered the youngest woman through with a murmured 'ladies first'. Ianto rolled his eyes, saved only by the wary glance he received from the attention's recipient at his boss's actions. These things happened.

"Stephen Hart," the man introduced himself privately to Ianto as they lingered in the tourist center, waiting a beat after the others before following. "Is that man always so touchy?"

"If he thinks you're pretty," he answered smoothly, straightening his tie. "Best get used to it. I've tried filing for harassment, but he is the highest- and only- authority."

He was rewarded for it by one of those wicked-boy grins, and smiled to himself as they crossed the threshold into Torchwood Three.


End file.
